Rose

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Rose Page 17

by Traci E Hall


  “A rule breaker. I like him better for it.” Eleanor smiled. “The rebels are always so much more interesting.”

  “Did you get the wallet?” Fay asked.

  “Of course,” Mamie said. “At first I thought it was empty, but then I discovered a second lining.”

  “Enough to fool someone at a first glance.” Eleanor nodded. “I have a few of those.”

  “Exactly.” Mamie took a breath. “Inside were two letters, both sealed.”

  “Where are they?” Eleanor asked, looking around the room.

  “Did you read them?” Fay sat up, pushing the bolster out of the way. “What did they say?”

  Mamie hung her head. “The first one is a cryptic message from Bishop Clairvaux.”

  “Non.” Eleanor sat back in disbelief.

  “Oui.” She paused, patting her rapidly beating heart. “The second was from his wife and family. They miss him and want him to hurry home.”

  Fay’s mouth dropped open. “A married Templar?”

  Eleanor tapped her plump lower lip. “I think it can be done but only if the man denies them, giving all his worldly goods to the fraternity.” She scooted off the thick mattress. “Where are the letters? I would see for myself what the bishop is up to.”

  Mamie slid off the bed and opened her trunk. She’d tucked the missives in the foot of her stockings. “Here.”

  Eleanor read them and passed them to Fay. When the women were through, they looked at Mamie in disbelief.

  “I don’t understand what the bishop wants.” Eleanor crossed her arms and walked around the room. “Two should be as one? Mend what is broken?”

  “There are no other clues, and I tried to get in to see him, but the Templar House is locked tight. I will have to wait until he is free to answer our questions.”

  “I am sorry, Mamie, that he already has a wife.” Fay got off the bed and gave Mamie a hug. “I know you did not really allow your heart to care completely, but I could see the beginnings of love. Better to learn now than later.”

  “You see much,” Mamie said, accepting the hug before pulling away.

  Eleanor scrutinized her, as if she were someone she had not seen before. “You cared for him. In such a way? Your woman’s heart sensed he had not sworn himself over to God, not in a truly chaste fashion. But a wife and family at home? That is something different, my Rose.”

  “I know.” It had killed her each time her second husband was unfaithful. She would never give another woman that pain.

  “So,” the queen said, “what next?”

  Mamie buried her feelings and took the letters back, returning them to the wallet. “We wait. I tried to see him, knowing he was in his room—but an old Templar guard caught me near the yard.”

  “I assume you have another plan?”

  “Oui. I will try again tomorrow, but I do not think the commander will let Dominus far from his sight. However, if Princess Constance asks for Dominus as her Knights Templar champion, we can be assured of his place at the tournament.”

  Eleanor clapped her hands together. “I already asked Constance to get special permission. I wanted to show him favor for his bravery on the ship with you, and now that you told me of his honor in making sure we came back to the palace, I know that I am judging his character correctly. I do not understand his motivations, but he is a good man.” She hesitated before adding, “Perhaps we can enter you both into the tournament somehow?”

  “I thought that you were protecting King Louis’s feelings,” Fay said.

  “That was before my husband made the mistake of ordering me to disband what was left of my guard, as he would not allow further recruitment to replace those who have gone.”

  Mamie’s knees buckled at the queen’s pronouncement. King Louis had given his support earlier. “When was this?”

  “He had a messenger waiting for me after I came back from the courtyard with Constance and Hortencia. He was so angry, I could not say a word. Odo was there on one side of him, with that damned Thierry on the other. I know that to hate is against everything I believe in, but oh, that eunuch is evil. Louis does not see the harm that half-man does in his name.”

  “I am so sorry,” Mamie said, responding to the pain in the queen’s voice.

  Eleanor made a fist. “So when my uncle whispered his desire for a private meeting with him? It was quite easy to say yes.”

  Fay brought her knuckles to her lips, pressing any reply back into her mouth.

  Mamie did not stop herself in time. “What are you thinking? You know that Louis wants to go to Jerusalem. Siding with Raymond will come as a blow to his pride.”

  “I said a secret meeting, Mamie.” Eleanor spoke in warning tones.

  They were allowed much in their friendship and duties as guards, but Eleanor never forgot she was queen. Nor did she let her ladies forget.

  “I apologize,” Mamie said, putting the letters into the trunk. Her hands shook, so she hid them in the folds of her gown. “I fear for your safety.”

  “I will be fine.” She lifted her chin, daring either woman to disagree.

  “I know,” Fay said, coming around to Eleanor. “He has challenged your pride in such a way you feel you must defend it. If meeting with Raymond assuages that, then I will help you any way I can. But”—Fay looked directly into Eleanor’s eyes—“if you are at all in danger, I will do what I can to protect you.”

  “Perhaps Louis is right and it is time to disband our little group,” Eleanor said, her shoulders slumping.

  “Why?” Mamie asked.

  “What good can we do?” Eleanor’s eyes blazed.

  A crisis of faith from the queen bolstered Mamie’s flagging courage. “Bishop Clairvaux is up to his eyeballs in intrigue. I suggest we discover if he has a connection to Edessa. That may sway your decision as well.”

  Eleanor and Fay nodded, their arms around each other’s waists.

  “Eleanor, that means questioning your uncle.” Mamie hoped the queen would see that he was a man. Flesh and blood.

  “I know how to get what I want, Rose.”

  “You handle Raymond, then, while Fay and I uncover the secrets of Templars. Bishop Clairvaux is a known supporter of the sect.”

  “Because he is a nephew of some sort of the original nine—Knights of Poor Solomon, or something like that.” Eleanor paced the room once more. “He urged me and Louis to take on the red cross as well. For the pilgrimage. He was handing out dispensations and favors all over.”

  “When are you meeting with Raymond?” Fay asked.

  “Tomorrow morning. Before we go to the bazaar with Constance and Lady Hortencia.”

  “I will go with you,” Fay said, not giving the queen room to argue. “I will hide behind the couches, but I will go.”

  “I agree,” Mamie said. “It is important that you let us do what you trained us for. Fay, while you are both there, I will find a way to get to Dominus. Perhaps he will know what the bishop wants.”

  The three women embraced. Eleanor pulled back. “Mon fleurs, you make me so proud.”

  Dominus never fell into a deep sleep. Part of being a Templar meant having to sleep with the lamp lit all night, to make sure that no poor man was tempted to abuse himself. Or another.

  They slept in full dress, including shoes, which was the worst part. Dominus liked to stretch his toes when sleeping.

  He dreamed of Mamie, despite the light. Temptation. He heard Everard get up for morning prayers and nodded as the younger knight left. Dominus rose, splashed his face with water, and immediately walked to the side window.

  Templars did not believe in locks, so it would be easy enough to shimmy out. The guards were gone. To prayer or to break their fast—he did not care which. Dominus pulled himself up the wall and dropped over.

  He landed near a soft body that smelled like roses.

  “Mamie?”

  “Sh!” She held a finger to her lips. “I’ve hired lads to toss rocks against the gate and keep the guards occupied
, but it will not last long. Do you want your letters back?”

  His belly knotted. “You read them?”

  “Of course.”

  She didn’t even look ashamed.

  “What did they say? I cannot have them on my person without getting found out. How did you find them?”

  She grinned, and he reached out to touch her cheek.

  “The bishop,” she whispered, “wrote a cryptic piece that might mean more to you than what I could figure out.”

  He listened, memorizing the words. “Mend what is broken, or bury what is dead?”

  What could that mean?

  “The other one?”

  Mamie’s eyes dimmed. “Your Meggie sends her love, along with that of your children.”

  There was a scuffing sound at the far end of the wall.

  “Go,” she said, cupping her hands to give him a leg up.

  What kind of woman was she? He vaulted over the top without saying a word of thanks. He made it back into his room, on his knees giving prayers of gratitude when Everard returned.

  “Time for your tonsure,” the knight said.

  Dominus brushed his hand through his hair, which wasn’t overly long but was even, anyway. He was glad Mamie got to see him normal one last time. “I am ready.”

  “Commander Bartholomew said that if you get through this without any problems, you may have your robes back.”

  Dominus did not mind wearing the brown robe of a secular knight—it felt more honest. But the bishop had insisted he play the part.

  “I was wondering if that had been a deliberate slight, but since we are not supposed to be filled with pride, I did not ask.”

  Everard chuckled. “I think the commander expects you to fail. He has not seen you best the Turkish enemy. Your sword arm is surely blessed by God.”

  Dominus followed Everard to the barber. Two knights in full dress stood next to the man. Dominus, thanks to Everard’s warning, calmly took a seat.

  The man sharpened the razor on a strap, mixing the cream with a mortar and pestle. “Bow your head.”

  He did, gritting his teeth and reminding himself that it was only hair and would grow back shortly. Not in time to reach Jerusalem, but a few months with a bald pate was nothing in the whole tapestry.

  Two should be as one. Once divided, it cannot be whole.

  What did it mean?

  Mend what is broken, or bury what is dead.

  The barber tapped his bare head with the flat end of the razor. “You are done.”

  Everard nodded. “Now you look just like the rest of us.”

  “That is the point, isn’t it?” Dominus asked the barber, who shrugged. “To look and act as one.”

  He frowned, wondering if he would spend the next few months trying to force pieces of a puzzle together.

  “Thank you.” He rubbed his naked scalp, his fingers sliding over the smooth flesh.

  “Come back as often as you need to. Every other day or so, and I will keep it up to standard.”

  “Right.” Dominus followed Everard out of the shop. “Now where?”

  “We can go get your white robes.” Everard glanced at him. “If you want them.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps you are struggling over something in your soul.”

  “My soul is fine.”

  “You did not sleep well last night.”

  “Oh?”

  “Not that I could hear you clearly, but it sounded as if you were arguing.”

  “With whom?”

  “How would I know that?”

  “You were the one listening.”

  “I was not listening,” Everard said. “I was not able to sleep because you would not be quiet.” They stopped in front of the draper’s office. “Being quiet is a good thing in a knight. They like it.”

  Everard waited, looking at him with expectation of an explanation. When one did not come, he asked, “Are you disturbed over what happened at the grove yesterday? I feel as if it was, well, not quite right.”

  Which part? Was Everard being sincere, or was his air of innocence false?

  “Your punishment for wearing the brown robe, well, I can understand that. We are not supposed to be alone. I asked a few questions, and the punishment seemed severe, but I think that is because the commander is trying to make you see the error of your ways.”

  Dominus somehow retained his temper. “Please do not ask any more questions on my behalf.”

  “I am just trying to help.”

  “I do not need help. I will do my best not to disrupt you further,” Dominus said. Had he said anything in his sleep that would give away his lies?

  How could he get his own room? Even the ill brothers of the Templars shared space. It was part of being a community. A family of men.

  There was a reason he had left home at sixteen. He didn’t want to be a part of such a large family.

  But some things, Dominus was coming to find out, you just couldn’t run from.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The early morning sun trickled through her narrow window, making it difficult to find Fay in the garden below. She’d gone to spy on the king’s advisors, who had the temerity to whisper where they could see them. Fools.

  Eleanor tapped on the open door between their connecting rooms before opening it fully. “Good morning,” she said. “What are you doing?”

  “Reflecting on the past year.” Mamie turned from the window. She had been up before dawn. “I would not trade a moment of it. I’ve become stronger, more confident.” She lifted a shoulder and chuckled. “Who knew that was possible?”

  Eleanor smiled like an indulgent aunt. “Your sense of self was one of the first things that drew me to you,” she said. “You were holding court in the middle of the hall, without any effort.”

  “I was being myself. Having fun.” Her third husband had just died and she’d had nowhere to go. Nobody to care for, not a soul who needed her. Not one person who loved her. Settling herself in the queen’s court had changed everything.

  “It showed, in each man’s captivated gaze.” Eleanor walked across the room. “I met with Raymond.”

  “Without Fay, as planned?” Mamie sighed. “There is confidence and then there is self-delusion.”

  “Raymond and I are family.”

  “Still, Fay or I wanted to go with you.”

  “I do not need protection from my uncle,” she said, her tone brooking no argument.

  Mamie picked up the straw figure of Tyche sitting on the high-topped table next to the window, wishing for luck. “How did the meeting go? Did he admit to conspiring with the Templars?”

  “Conspiring is an ugly word.” Eleanor paused, holding her hand out for the figure. “He said that he, Jocelyn, and Bartholomew are prepared to battle Aleppo first, then Edessa. They have a strategy for defeating Nur ad-Din.”

  “And?” Mamie prodded.

  “The size of their army is what holds them back. They need more men.”

  Mamie bowed her head. “Our army.”

  “I have tried talking to Louis, but he shuts me out. He cannot make a final decision without me. It will break us.” Eleanor clenched the straw goddess in her hand.

  Mamie did not care for the sound of that. “Then what?”

  “Constance sent a messenger to cancel our trip to the market. She is not feeling well. Raymond went to see her, as a conscientious husband should.”

  What an odd choice of words.

  “She asked that we gather for breakfast, informally, in the Ivy Room.”

  “All of us?”

  “Yes. Where is Fay?”

  “She went for a walk outside.” Mamie smiled, her heart uneasy. “She felt the need to stretch her legs once she saw a stooped old chaplain talking secretively with a skeletal eunuch.”

  “I loathe those men.” Eleanor lifted her head as a thought occurred. “But that means I might find my husband alone.”

  Alone meant with a few select gua
rds, but that was not the point. No Odo or Thierry was what mattered to Eleanor.

  “Would you like me to bring him a message?”

  “No, I will send a page. Perhaps he would visit in the Ivy Room too. I would like to repair the rift between us.”

  At least she acknowledged something wrong. That was a good beginning.

  “Once you are ready, we can go,” Eleanor said. She put Tyche back on the table.

  Mamie nodded and went to her trunk, pulling out a dark-red corded belt and shoes. Her gown was dark rose with deep-ruby sleeves. After attaching a rose-colored veil and a silver circlet, silver rings, and a bangle, she pronounced, “Done. You?”

  “One more thing,” Larissa said. She looped Eleanor’s curls around her fingers, settling them in waves down the queen’s back, before covering them with a delicate veil of emerald silk.

  “Thank you,” Eleanor said, peering into a silver mirror. “Nobody does my curls like you.”

  “I am not staying on,” Larissa said. “You may come and visit if you miss me. On my farm. With my husband.”

  “Pah!” Eleanor turned, taking stock before they left the chamber. “I’ve already sent a servant to Louis. Tell Fay where we are?”

  “The Ivy Room,” Larissa dutifully said, closing the door behind them.

  Once in the hall, Eleanor said, “I have been thinking about what happened in Daphne, about making a decision that will affect history. It has made me think twice over ordering tea or juice.”

  Mamie snickered. “Probably a more important decision than that. Though you would be happy either way.”

  “But how do I know?” The queen edged a glance toward her.

  Shivering, Mamie said, “You do not. I did not wake up with any additional answers or clarity. You know I would have said so.”

  Eleanor slowed their pace and whispered, “Helping Raymond could change history. I made a wish, in the grove before we left. I wished to make the choice that best served my family.”

  Mamie’s blood chilled. “What will you say to Louis once you have the chance?”

  The queen tapped her lower lip. “I feel as if I should gather more information first. Form a sound plan of action. Besides, if Louis and Raymond get to know one another a bit better, then perhaps Raymond can make Louis see his side without my interfering.”

 

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